"Your scan results came back clean - how does it feel to be cancer-free??" he asked.
I answered that it felt great, but in truth, I didn't feel cancer-free. I couldn't even tell you why. I figured it was just me worrying that the cancer wasn't truly gone, but deep down I felt like this wasn't the last I would be dealing with scans and surgeons.
For those of you who don't know my story, I'll give you an overview.
In January of 2011, I had just begun my newest adventure, this time in Bloomington, Indiana. I dropped my dad off at the airport, then began driving the hour back to my 1-bedroom apartment. As I walked into my little living room, I expected to feel excited about beginning graduate school and my job at the book preservation facility (nerd alert!). Instead, I felt sick inside. I told myself that I was just scared of what was to come, that maybe I was experiencing some homesickness. Though I had never been one to get homesick, especially this quickly, that had to be the source of my uneasiness.
Fast-forward six weeks, and I am on a plane heading back to Utah. I am trembling and freezing cold, though everyone else on the plane complains of the heat. My mind races incessantly, and I'm so dizzy I'm afraid I may pass out. I bite my bottom lip as hard as I can without breaking the skin so that I won't begin crying again. Because I have not slept in over 48 hours, I feel as though my head may burst at any moment, and my stomach flips over and over as though I'm on a roller coaster. I've lost 20 lbs. in six weeks, and while this would normally be great news for someone struggling with weight, it's due to my not being able to eat anything.
After I reach Salt Lake City, the horror doesn't stop. I still can't sleep, food is appalling, and my anxiety continues to spiral out of control. My mind races with terrifying thoughts every moment of every day until I'm convinced I've lost my mind. Doctors, counselors, psychiatrists, everyone is concerned, but unsure of what has happened. Everyone tells me I seem fine on the outside, while on the inside I am dying. I try medication after medication, some making me feel seriously drugged, others intensifying my panic. Agoraphobia? Vitamin deficiency? Chronic exhaustion? Perhaps a problem with two of my medications interacting? No one seems to know what the hell is wrong with me. Then one day, I wake up feeling sick and bonkers as usual, but with a sore throat as well. I also remember the large lump that has been on the right side of my neck for the past month or two, maybe even three. Maybe it could be mono, I think. I had mono in high school, and it made me feel terrible, exhausted and just blech. I call my doctor and make an appointment.
Dr. Lewis doesn't seem concerned at all as he feels my neck and looks down my throat.
"This lymph node is pretty tender, huh?" he asks, vigorously rubbing the right side of my neck.
"Well, no," I answer. "Actually it doesn't hurt at all."
He stops rubbing and looks at me.
"Not at all? How about the other side?" he asks, kneading the left side of my neck.
"Nope, feels fine," I answer.
I've seen that concerned look on doctors' faces for a while now, and it never bodes well for me. Dr. Lewis orders an ultrasound for the next day.
After the ultrasound, a CT scan, and a needle biopsy, the results are confirmed: papillary thyroid cancer. Maybe in another post I will write more about what that was like, receiving the news that I have cancer. This post is already ridiculously long, so I'll have to come back to it.
I'm incredibly lucky. Cancer usually means chemo, loss of all one's hair, and other terrible complications. Other cancers can mean imminent death. Mine wasn't so bad, though I did have a fairly intense surgery that resulted in a 9-inch hockey-stick scar along my neck, with nerve damage to my tongue and right shoulder, and radiation that fried my salivary glands. However, thyroid cancer is extremely treatable, and my doctors were fantastic. I'll write another post about my treatments as well, but again, this post is turning into a book.
It's been about a year and a half since all my cancer fun, and I feel like a bit of a thyroid cancer expert. So the day before Thanksgiving, when I saw the small circle on the ultrasound that Dr. Ahmad was measuring, I knew what was coming. I have two more lymph nodes that are cancerous, and have to come out. I'll tell you the truth: when my wonderful friend, who is also my Nurse Practitioner, called to tell me the nodes were cancerous, I said the F-word under my breath. Judge me all you like.
My new surgeon, Dr. Riddle, assures me that this surgery won't be nearly as awful as the last one, and that he will be extra careful with my vocal chords, tongue nerves, etc. I do trust him, but I still worry. Going into this surgery is somehow more frightening than the last time. Perhaps it's because I now know what to expect, and how many things can go wrong. The last surgery, at one point, left me sobbing from the pain, and unable to speak properly because part of my tongue was paralyzed. While I still stand by my opinion that I am one lucky kid, cancer-treatment-wise, I'm still not excited about this surgery.
Surgery is Tuesday, January 8th. I'm not sure what time yet, as the hospital hasn't called me with the schedule, but I'm hoping for early morning. I hate not eating all day! Also, I might even be able to come home that same day, if the surgery goes smoothly and I don't have to have a drain in my incision like last time. I'm hoping for that, mostly because I hate being in the hospital and it costs a million dollars, but my mom hopes they keep me overnight because she's scared to bring me home all cut up.
I will post again as soon as I am able, and let ya'll know how I am doing. I'm sure everything will be just fine, and hopefully my neck won't look any worse! Thanks for all the thoughts and prayers, I can definitely use them.
Last time - looks like I was shanked! |
Kelly! you are amazing! if you need someone to bring you a treat or anything please give me a call:) i love Your guts and think you are such a great person! good luck tomorrow:)
ReplyDeleteOh Kelly! I'm sorry I had no idea what you've been going through! My prayers are with you for your surgery tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteI wish this post would turn into a novel. You are such a gifted writer! I'm praying for you and sending all of my happy thoughts your way.
ReplyDeleteHey Kelly, I will put your name on the Boston Temple Prayer Roll. We are praying for you.
ReplyDeleteI had no idea! I'll be praying for you! And I totally don't blame you for saying the F word ;)
ReplyDeleteKelly you are such a brave gal. Thanks for putting your story out there. Post more, you are a great writer. I will be praying for you. Love you!
ReplyDeleteHey Mi Hija, thanks for posting this! I like staying updated and knowing how you are doing. I will be thinking of you and praying for you tomorrow. I love you! ANIMO!
ReplyDelete